


Chase the Sky Into the Ocean

by Agapostemon



Series: Steady As the Stars in the Woods [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Light Angst, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Sickfic, kitchen disasters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: A compilation of ficlets from the Stars in the Woods AU that were too short to stand alone. Some of these will be gen and others may contain romance. I'll mark that in the notes, along with content warnings and where they fall in the Stars in the Woods timeline.1. Delirious [Matt/Shiro]2. Restless [Shiro & Keith]3. Uneasy [Matt & Shiro]





	1. Delirious [Shiro/Matt]

**Author's Note:**

> This first ficlet is the result of some [Sickfic Requests](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/post/164389259921/sick-promptsstarters) over on Tumblr! Prompt was Shiro/Matt and "You sure are delirious."
> 
> Category: M/M, T-rated  
> Content Warnings: Cursing, illness (including some vomit-adjacent grossness)  
> Timeline: Some point after after they get their cats and Shiro and Matt become a couple.

Matt wakes up shivering and alone. Which is interesting, considering he fell asleep huddled up next to Shiro under a microfiber blanket and a thick comforter. But now all he has is his baby blanket, several pillows, and a cat.

…Keith’s cat?

Matt looks up. The bedroom door is open, which explains the calico intruder. But it raises more questions than it answers, since Shiro’s bedroom door is rarely open unless Keith is actively standing in the doorway.

Matt sighs and tugs his blankie around his shoulders like a cloak. Time for some detective work, he decides. He’s not exactly thrilled about the prospect—a headache is already starting to gnaw at his temple—but he’s cold and lonely and more than a little worried about Shiro. So he forces himself out of bed and makes his way out to the hallway.

It doesn’t take him long to spot his next clue: the bathroom light is on with the door wide open. He follows the light into the bathroom, where he finds Shiro and several more unanswered questions. His partner is curled up in the bathtub, swaddled in most of their bedding as well as a couple towels. License the Maine coon sits atop the pile like black and white whipped cream atop a Shiro sundae.

Matt can’t help it. He bursts out laughing. Which startles Shiro awake and sends him instantly into a panicked frenzy, sweating profusely and gasping for air as he tries desperately to claw his way out of his blanket cocoon. Matt’s laughter cuts off as quickly as it started as he dives forward to help his partner sit up and free his arms.

Shiro’s panic subsides a bit once he’s no longer immobilized, but his breathing is still ragged and wheezy, and his glazed eyes dart around the room without a hint of focus.

“Shiro?” Matt reaches out a hand to peel his partner’s sopping wet bangs away from his face. He’s burning up. “Holy shit, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

Shiro mumbles something incoherent in response, then dissolves into a fit of wet coughing that ends with him dry heaving and panting, strings of spit and snot hanging from his face.

“Yikes,” Matt grimaces and moves the nearby bath towels into his partner’s lap, just in case. “I thought you sounded sniffly, but you kept saying it was just your sinuses! You gotta tell me when you’re feeling…” he trails off when he realizes Shiro is _cowering_. “Oh, heck. What’s wrong Kashi?”

Shiro lets out a small, congested sob.

“Shiro?” Matt reaches out for his partner, then thinks better of it and retracts his hand, “Hey. Shiro. It’s me, Matt. Can I touch you?”

“Matt? Matt…” Shiro echoes, “Matt, Matt… Matt…”

“Wow, you sure are delirious, huh?” Matt observes with a worried half-smile, “Alright, hang on. I’ve got an idea.”

Obviously getting Shiro back into bed is out of the question. So without further ado, Matt gathers up a metric shit ton of pillows from Shiro’s room and some spare blankets from his own—which more of an office than a bedroom, since he usually sleeps in Shiro’s bed—and makes himself a nest on the bathroom floor.

“There,” he announces proudly as he settles into his makeshift bed, “Wouldn’t wanna leave you all alone while you’re feeling so crappy.”

Shiro responds with a congested snore, which Matt takes as permission to go back to sleep.

\------------

They both wake up the next morning to a loud groan from Keith, “Guys, what the _fuck_? This apartment has one bathroom and three bedrooms, I cannot _believe_ what I am seeing with my own two eyes…”


	2. Restless [Shiro & Keith]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Shiro opens his bedroom door to get himself a drink of water at 3am, he’s not really expecting Keith to be _right there_ on the hallway floor.
> 
> And yet, there he is.
> 
> “ _Holy shit_ ,” Shiro murmurs, his heart beating in his throat as he takes a step backwards, “Almost tripped over you, there, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's another [Sickfic Request](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/post/164389259921/sick-promptsstarters) from Tumblr. Or rather, a combination of two prompts: "Please stop wasting what’s left of your voice on complaints about soup you can’t even taste" and "This is the third time I’ve had to put you back in the bed. Why the heck do you want to lie on the floor so bad?" -- both for Shiro & Keith.
> 
> Category: Gen, T-rated  
> Content Warnings: Cursing, minor illness (but, for once in my fanfic-writing life, no one throws up)  
> Timeline: Some nebulous point after Keith joins the camp staff

“Shiro, this is inedible,” rasps Keith, grimacing down at the lovingly-microwaved bowl of chicken and rice soup in front of him, “I can’t even taste it, it’s so watered down.”

“Of course you can’t taste it,” Shiro defends, “You can’t taste anything. You have the flu.”

“Or _maybe_ I can’t taste it because _someone_ added an extra can of water that didn’t need to be there,” Keith snaps back, mucous crackling in his throat. It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing or genuinely upset.

Shiro shakes his head, “Keith, just eat your soup.”

“You mean my rice water,” Keith corrects, punctuating the remark with a sneeze that sends watered-down soup splashing all over his lap. “Fuck!” he slams his bowl down on the coffee table in front of him and storms off to his room, leaving a trail of broth in his wake. 

Shiro sighs and picks up the abandoned bowl, trying an exploratory spoonful before setting it by the sink. Blech! Okay, so Keith has a point. It’s pretty disgusting.

 

\----------

 

Keith doesn’t show his face for the rest of the evening. Shiro doesn’t think much of it — Keith can be snippy when he’s sick, so he’s probably still sulking about the soup. Still, he’s worried about his sick friend and decides to check in on him before heading to bed.

“Keith?” Shiro calls out as he knocks.

No response.

He tries a couple more times, still to no avail. Finally, he sighs and turns the knob, bracing himself for the stench of Keith’s carrion-eating beetle colony. As soon as he opens the door, he knows why Keith wasn’t answering his knocks: he’s face-down on his floor, snoring and drooling into the crook of his arm.

It’s cute as _heck_. Shiro almost doesn’t want to wake him, but… that can’t be comfortable. So he stoops down and gently shakes his friend’s shoulder, “Hey sleepy-head. You fell asleep on the floor.”

Keith groans and rolls onto his side to curl into a tight ball.

Shiro shakes his shoulder a little harder, “Keith. That’s gonna hurt in the morning. C’mon, let’s get you into bed.”

Keith groans.

“C’mon. Up up,” Shiro offers him an arm.

Keith reluctantly allows himself to be hefted up and escorted over to his bed.

“There we go,” Shiro smiles down at him as he burrows under his covers, “Sleep tight. Hope you feel better in the morning.” 

Keith grumbles something and coughs into his pillow, so Shiro leaves him to sleep off his fever in peace.

 

\----------

 

When Shiro opens his bedroom door to get himself a drink of water at 3am, he’s not really expecting Keith to be _right there_ on the hallway floor.

And yet, there he is.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Shiro murmurs, his heart beating in his throat as he takes a step backwards, “Almost tripped over you, there, buddy.”

Keith responds with a snore, blissfully unaware of how close he just came to being stepped on by his much larger friend.

Shiro chuckles nervously and crouches down, “What, are you allergic to beds? C’mon, let’s get you back to your room.”

Keith just whimpers.

Shiro feels his forehead and frowns, “Aww, you’re burning up again. Maybe we should get some Ibuprofen and water in you before you head back to bed.”

Keith cracks one eye open to glower up at him, but he drifts back to sleep before he has a chance to argue.

“I’m gonna have to carry you, aren’t I?” Shiro muses. The lack of response is all the answer he needs. With a resigned sigh, he repositions himself so his left arm—the only one with a hand attached at the moment—can support his friend’s head, then hefts him into his arms and lugs him back to his roadkill-scented room, where he deposits him in his bed as gently as possible.

Keith doesn’t even bother to open his eyes, just weakly reaches out to feel blindly for… something.

Oh.

His stuffed hippo.

Shiro picks up the hippo—which had also ended up on the floor at some point—and places it on his sickly friend’s chest. Once Keith is reunited with his plush friend, Shiro presses his lips to his disconcertingly warm brow and murmurs, “Gonna go get you that water and ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.”

 

\----------

 

“Hey Shiro,” Matt says, poking his head into the bathroom as Shiro brushes his teeth, “Guess where I found your duckling this morning.”

Shiro groans and spits out a mouthful of toothpaste, “Lemme guess. On the floor?”

Matt cackles and nods, “Spooning the coffee table!”

Shiro lets out a puff of fond laughter, “I’ll… go ahead and text Allura and tell her he’s not coming into work today. Poor kid.”


	3. Uneasy [Matt & Shiro]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt’s glad his friend isn’t pushing for answers, because he’s not sure he has answers to give. Sure, he doesn’t feel too great today, but it’s not really a _headache_ or a _stomachache_ or anything else he could conceivably label and quantify. He just feels, well… lousy. Like there’s too much pressure in his skull and his gut, leaving him feeling uneasy but not quite in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Sickfic Request](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/post/164389259921/sick-promptsstarters) party continues. The prompt for this one was "Your complexion is scaring me, please sit down" with Shiro and Matt. (Also featuring some bonus Holt sibling fluff.)
> 
> Category: Gen, T-rated  
> Content Warnings: Semi-graphic vomit  
> Timeline: Some nebulous point not long after [Ground Keeps Coming Up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11808456)

As soon as Matt climbs into the passenger seat of Shiro’s station wagon, his best friend tosses him a still-very-frozen daifuku. The plastic around it crinkles as it bounces off Matt’s lap and onto the floor.

Matt groans. His head is swimming and his stomach feels weirdly full even though he hasn’t eaten since last night. The last thing he wants is something sweet and chewy for breakfast.

“Sorry,” Shiro grins sheepishly, “Forgot to thaw ‘em. They’re still good frozen, though.” He illustrates his point by taking a laborious bite of his own daifuku and chewing pointedly. Hunk would be appalled.

Matt feels a bubble forming in his throat as he stoops down to retrieve his would-be breakfast from floor and hand it back to Shiro. “Mmn, not hungry,” he says, voice strained.

Shiro frowns as he swallows, “You feelin’ okay?”

“Yep,” Matt responds, a bit more curtly than intended, “M’fine.”

“Okay…” Shiro replies dubiously before shoving the rest of his breakfast in his mouth and turning on the ignition.

Matt’s glad his friend isn’t pushing for answers, because he’s not sure he has answers to give. Sure, he doesn’t feel too great today, but it’s not really a _headache_ or a _stomachache_ or anything else he could conceivably label and quantify. He just feels, well… lousy. Like there’s too much pressure in his skull and his gut, leaving him feeling uneasy but not quite in pain.

The motion of the car makes it worse. He closes his eyes and presses the back of his head against the seat, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths.

He’s fine. He’s not going to miss work over a not-quite-headache that doesn’t even _hurt_.

“You need me to roll the window down?” Shiro’s voice sounds fuzzy and distant.

Matt nods slowly. The fresh air helps a little.

The drive is mercifully short, and some of the pressure in Matt’s head subsides once Shiro parks the car. He opens the door and takes a deep breath, then stands up.

All the blood immediately drains from his face.

He braces himself against the car door, taking shallow breaths through his mouth as he wills the liquid in his throat not to rise any higher.

“Matt?” Shiro asks, voice saturated with concern, “Hey, maybe you should sit back down buddy… You’re lookin’ pretty pale, even by Holt standards.”

Matt’s vision blurs as saliva pools in his mouth. He holds up a finger in an attempt to say “I’ll be fine in a second.”

Which is blatantly untrue and they both know it.

“Uh oh,” Shiro says a split second before Matt retches, expelling what little is in his stomach onto the ground below.

Tears stream down his face as stomach acid burns the inside of his nose. A sob escapes his throat as he heaves again. Only bile comes up, and it _hurts_. Suddenly, all he wants is to go _home_.

“Hey,” Shiro says in a gentle half-whisper, placing a soothingly warm hand on the small of Matt’s back, “You’re okay. Let’s go sit down.”

Matt feels himself being guided into the grassy area beside the parking lot. With a little help, he manages to sit down on the bench of a nearby picnic table. He curls in on him as his friend rubs soothing circles into his back. He’s shivering and exhausted and needs to blow his nose.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar green moped pull up.

“Hey, Pidge!” Shiro calls out, “Can you do me a big favor?”

“Probably,” she responds, “What’s the favor?”

“Can you come cuddle your brother while I go talk to Allura and grab some tissues?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, making her way over and switching places with Shiro.

“Hi Mattie,” Pidge coos, pressing a kiss to her brother’s throbbing temple, “You look like crap.”

All he can manage in response is a weak moan.

She wraps her arms around him and begins running her fingers through his sweaty hair. He melts into the soothing touch.

A few minutes later, Shiro returns and stuffs some tissues into Matt’s hands, “Hey Pidge, think you can handle the middle schoolers on your own for an hour or two? Keith’s gonna take over the high schoolers for a bit while I take your pukey brother home to rest.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Pidge says, still stroking Matt’s pounding head, “I’ll just take ‘em to the garden. Ryner’s good at wrangling kids.”

“Good plan,” Shiro says, “I’ll take over from here so you can get to work.”

“’Kay. Take care of yourself, Mattie. Don’t do anything dumb,” Pidge gives her brother a gentle squeeze before scampering off to prepare for the campers’ arrival.

Once she’s gone, Shiro reclaims his seat and wraps an arm around Matt’s shoulders, “You ready to head home, buddy? Or d’you need another minute?”

Matt attempts to blow his nose and gags in the process, “Maybe… another minute…”

“Okay,” Shiro holds him, “No hurry. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Matt rasps, leaning into the hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt is not aware of this yet, but he definitely has a migraine in this. In case you were wondering.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is from [Something Wild](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytMqO-WQpQ4) by Lindsey Stirling and Andrew McMahon
> 
> If you wanna come say hi, I'm [Agapostemon](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> Also: Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


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